


You Only Love Once

by Kairoua



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Current Geralt x Yennefer, Elf Jaskier | Dandelion, Everybody thank Grammarly for making this acceptable, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Geralt is a dumb, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Jaskier, Past Geralt x Jaskier, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Yennefer is there but I don't really delve into her much, past geraskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairoua/pseuds/Kairoua
Summary: Geralt apologises for the mountain. Jaskier accepts. They sleep together. Geralt ditches him before he wakes up. Jaskier is heartbroken. Jaskier meets another Witcher. They travel together for many years. Chaos decides to ensue when things finally start to settle for the elven bard.I have shite grammar and punctuation so apologies in advance.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Coën/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Eskel, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion & Vesemir, Jaskier | Dandelion/Eskel, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Past Geralt/Jaskier - Relationship
Comments: 102
Kudos: 783





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has his heart broken and meets another Witcher.

The world registered slowly for Jaskier, the pain in his lower back being first and the cold empty sheets next to him being the next. The bard propped himself up, looking around and pouting when he saw no one else in the room. He shrugged it off, figuring that his Witcher companion had decided to head down for breakfast early. Jaskier got out of bed, dressing quickly and packing up his things before heading downstairs with a pep in his step that had been scarcely seen in the past few years of lonely travel. He immediately looks to the corner table, frowning when he finds that it's empty. He saunters over to the barmaid that's standing at the bar, idly wiping glasses clean while staring at a stain on the wood.

  
Jaskier throws on his most charming smile, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach as he asks, "Pardon my interruption. But have you seen my Witcher friend?" The barmaid looked at him blankly for a moment before nodding, "Aye. He was in here earlier but left when a woman entered." A stone settled in Jaskier's gut, his words coming out sounding slightly choked, "What did she look like?" The barmaid held an almost dazed look as she recalled what the woman looked like, "She had long dark hair, wearing a flowing green gown and the most beautiful eyes. They were-"

  
"Purple." The barmaid nodded excitedly, looking at him in an almost expectant manner as he processed the information. His heart was doing painful things in his chest, his stomach roiling in a way that made him feel sick, "I would stare clear of her. She's only got eyes for that Witcher it seems." The barmaid pouted at that, crossing her arms in an almost petulant manner, "Let a girl dream." Despite the aching feeling in his chest Jaskier cracked a smile at that, nodding stiffly before leaving the tavern altogether. Despite what the barmaid had told him Jaskier still held a sliver of hope that Geralt would be in the stables waiting for him, Roach snorting softly as he fed her some oats.

  
But the Witcher and his mare were nowhere to be seen, making Jaskier's heart drop like a stone. He left the town, not seeing any point in staying when he had already collected his coin and had his things with him. Jaskier walked down the path, his eyes resolutely on the dirt path and his mind carefully blank. He didn't want to think, knowing that if he did his mind would most likely wander to unsavory things that seemed so good in the heat of the moment.   
Jaskier walked like that for a few hours, drowning out the sounds around him but part of him must have still been hoping since, at the sound of hooves, his head whipped up fast enough it rendered him dizzy for a moment. He was sorely disappointed though when he realised it was just a farmer and that did it for him. Jaskier dropped to his knees, a broken sob finally working its way out of his throat and quickly being followed by more. The bard moved off the path, curling up into a ball and sobbing into his arms.

  
How could he be so stupid?! Geralt blamed him for everything that went wrong in his life and Jaskier had just gone and forgiven him as if it was nothing simply because the man apologised. The bard was appalled with himself, desperately wishing he could go back and slap his past self for being so stupidly in love with the bastard Witcher. 

  
Jaskier sat like that, completely unbothered with the fact that he was balled up on the side of the path, crying and sobbing like a lost child. He stayed like that until a familiar looming shadow cast itself over him, yet somehow, he knew it wasn't Geralt, even without looking up. The shadow suddenly disappeared but it was clear the person hadn't left since there was suddenly a hand on Jaskier's shoulder.

  
"Are you alright?" Jaskier sniffled, lifting his head while wiping his eyes dry. The first thing he noticed was the striking gold eyes, so similar and yet vastly different to Geralt's. Jaskier let a dry chuckle loose, hiccupping slightly as he answered, "Just dandy." The Witcher frowned at him, biting the inside of his cheek before sighing softly, "Would you like to get a drink with me in the nearby town?" 

  
Jaskier stared at him for a long moment, debating on whether or not this was a good idea. The Witcher gave a small smile, something that was very unfamiliar when matched with golden eyes, before speaking once again, "I may not be your white wolf, but I can still offer some interesting tales." The bard frowned at that, his heart-tugging painfully in his chest before he sighed.

  
"Alright then. Not like I have anywhere to be anyway." The Witcher hummed, standing and jumping onto his horse before offering a hand toward Jaskier. When the bard did nothing but stare at it, he raised an eyebrow, "Would you like to jump on or were you planning to walk the entire way there?" Jaskier squinted at the hand in suspicion before taking it, hauling himself up behind the Witcher and holding onto his armor so he didn't fall off immediately. 

  
They traveled like that, in silence for the better half of the day before the Witcher broke it, startling Jaskier out of his reverie, "You know, you sounded a lot more talkative whenever I heard stories about you in taverns. You also enjoyed singing quite a bit." Jaskier grunted, a distant part of his mind laughing as he realised that he had taken the role of Geralt for a short moment. 

  
"Well I would love to sing a song but unfortunately this bard's heart has been broken one too many times by the subject of his songs…" He didn't mean to say it out loud but something about the man in front of him eased his mind somewhat, loosened his tongue a little more than usual. The Witcher hummed again, turning slightly to look at him from the corner of his eye, "Would you like to travel with me? You can make some more songs that aren't about him." 

  
Jaskier gave him an incredulous look, "I don't even know you." He chuckled lightly, shrugging his shoulders as he turned back around, "And yet you agreed to get a drink with me." The bard opened his mouth, ready to rebut but stopping short when he realised that the man had a valid point. Jaskier huffed, turning his head in an attempt to hide the blush colouring his cheeks as the Witcher laughed, "Coën." 

  
Jaskier glanced at him from the corner of his eye, taking a deep breath before speaking, "Julian..." Coën looked at him for a moment before nodding, facing the path once again and urging his horse to go faster. They made the rest of the trip in silence, Jaskier seeing no need to fill the silence for once. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier reveals a bit of his past. Coën grows a little angry and protective. The two share a bedroll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention, Coën is probably insanely out of character and the rest of them are probably really off as well so I apologise if that annoys you.

The sun was just beginning to set when the two made camp, Jaskier falling into an old routine of collecting wood and setting up a tent as Coën went off to find them dinner. The bard had zoned out, his hands working methodically as his mind wandered to less than pleasant thoughts of his- Geralt. Jaskier sighed, picking up his lute and taking a seat on a conveniently placed log. He didn’t feel like playing but his fingers began to pluck out a slow and mournful sort of melody.

“I’m glad to see the lark hasn’t lost his song.” An unpleasant twang interrupted the song, bringing a wince to both Coën’s and Jaskier’s face as the bard turned to look at the Witcher, “What? Of course not. I’m a bard. Saying I lost my song is like saying you lost all your witchery abilities.” Coën gave a pleasant laugh at that, shaking his head in what could only be fond exasperation as he sat down to start preparing their meal.

“I can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before. But you make a fair point, though you have your elven heritage. I’m only a man underneath all of these ‘witchery abilities.” Jaskier snorted, opening his mouth to retort before his brain short-circuited, the words the Witcher has spoken suddenly catching up to him.

“What?” Coën stopped what he was doing, noting the slight panic in the bard’s voice as he looked at him, “You’re an elf aren’t you?” Jaskier swallowed, his hands fidgeting with the neck of his lute, “No?” Coën narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly before inhaling deeply. He stared at the bard for another long moment before shrugging his shoulders, going back to skinning the deer he had caught and leaving Jaskier in stunned silence.

That was it? He wasn’t going to say anything. Wasn’t going to question further or something? The moments of silence dragged by, Jaskier continuing to fidget with his lute as Coën continued preparing dinner.

“Fine! Yes, I’m an elf!” Coën stopped again, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction in silent question. The bard didn’t elaborate further, staring at the fire resolutely and waiting for…something. The Witcher sighed heavily, putting the food to the side before clasping his hands in front of him, “He doesn’t know. Does he?” Jaskier tensed before nodding slowly, still avoiding the Witcher’s eyes. Coën frowned at this.

Now he had never met the bard, had only heard of him through stories that barmaids and tavern goers spoke of. But in all of the stories he had heard Jaskier never seemed afraid of anything, never backed down from fights he probably should have. From what the Witcher had heard, the white wolf’s bard was a feisty little thing, threatening anyone who said something wrong about his Witcher and running headlong into a battle he had no chance in. So why was he so scared?

Coën’s frown deepened when a thought suddenly occurred to him, his hands clenching into fists at the mere thought of it, “Julian...” He ignored the flinch that garnered, “Did Geralt hurt you for being an elf?” The bard’s head shot up, a fiery rage suddenly flaring in his eyes as he glared at Coën, “He would never do something like that. Lying bastard or not he would never hurt someone without good reason.”

The Witcher raised his hands in surrender, leaning back as if the bard would pounce on him right that second, “I meant no offence. You just seemed terrified of the fact that I knew what you were, and I thought the worse.” Jaskier hummed, the rage dying just as quick as it came and being replaced with an upset frown.

“Geralt didn’t realise I was an elf. I guess you can smell it because I let the glamour slip a little more than usual.” Coën nodded but he could tell there was still something more to why Jaskier was so scared of him finding out. He decided not to push it, figuring that if things went well enough the bard would tell him in his own time. What Coën didn’t expect was for that time to be so soon.

“Before Geralt, I met another Witcher… He seemed alright, never appeared to have an issue with elves. But when I dropped the glamour…” Jaskier stopped his sentence short, the corners of his eyes burning as phantom pains spread along his body. The bard swallowed thickly, slowly dropping his glamour and revealing the heavy scarring marring the sides of his head.

“Let’s just say he didn’t make it out of that endeavour alive.” Coën sucked in a sharp breath, his hands trembling in some semblance of emotion as he stared at the scars. Even from across the camp and with the poor lighting he could tell how bad they were.

One stretched from the corner of Jaskier’s jaw, behind his ear and just to the top while the other followed in much the same fashion. But the tip was missing on his left ear, making it slightly nubby compared to the point of his right ear. There was also a litany of smaller scars marring the side of his face, one of them running across the corner of his mouth.

Jaskier was staring at the fire again, completely ignoring the world around him as he tried to drown out the memories that were trying to scrabble their way back to the surface. So, when there was an unexpected pressure against his side and across his shoulders it was only fair to let him squeak and jump a foot off the log.

Coën chuckled lightly before coaxing the bard back against his side, pulling him into a tight hug when he got close enough. Jaskier tensed at the initial contact before slowly relaxing into it, his hands slowly coming up before clutching onto Coën’s armour tightly. They stayed like that for long moments. Both of them content to just hold each other and bask in the warmth of each other and the fire. If Jaskier started sobbing quietly and clutched tighter at the Witcher’s armour he didn’t mention it. Just held the bard closer and murmured soothing words until the sobs died down into sniffles and then into nothing at all.

They parted eventually. Coën finishing their dinner as Jaskier spouted off random tales of the journey’s he had had before and between meetings with the Witcher who shall not be named. Coën didn’t mind, he enjoyed the change in scenery and the change in the bard’s demeanour made everything oddly brighter, despite it being well into the night already. When they went to bed, they shared the bedroll Coën had, Jaskier being too tired and cold to try braving a flimsy blanket and the hard forest floor. The Witcher wasn’t averse to the flimsy blanket and forest floor but the bard had been adamant about needing a ‘Witcher heater’. Coën couldn’t say he minded anyway, he was content with having a companion and if that meant sharing a bedroll then he could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the love and support you guys have given this. It has been so nice reading all your comments. Also, everybody thank Grammarly for making things slightly easier.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier thinks about the last 20 years. They head to Kaer Morhen. They meet Eskel, Lambert and Vesemir. Lambert unknowingly brings up an old issue. Thank Eskel for his above-average social skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter this time around. Also, it's skipped forward a few years.

“Coën!” The Witcher jolted awake, snorting slightly as he raised his head, “What?” A familiar laugh filled his ears, making him look down at an all too familiar sight. The light was streaming in from behind Jaskier, highlighting him and making him look almost ethereal in the early morning light, his elven features enhancing it. Coën smiled tiredly down at the bard, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and pulling him closer, “I thought you said we had to leave for Kaer Morhen early in the morning?” No matter what you said the Witcher would vehemently deny ever whining like a child and burrowing himself further under the blankets.

Jaskier chuckled at him, wrapping his arms around the Witcher’s head as he nuzzled his face into his chest, “Just a little longer…” The bard huffed, amused by his Witcher’s antics. Despite what one might think, Coën was a heavy sleeper and if left to his own devices would sleep in until late in the afternoon. How he had gotten anything done before Jaskier came along is beyond the bard’s comprehension but he’s never able to get a straight answer out of his Witcher regarding that topic.

Jaskier ran his hand lightly over the man’s shoulders, his mind wandering to the memories of the last twenty years. After that night they had met Jaskier had decided to travel with the Witcher. At first, everything was pretty much the same as when he travelled with the previous Witcher, the only difference was there weren’t any demands for him to stop singing/talking and there was a significant drop in insults and abuse.

Then in their fifteenth year of travelling, they had come across a particularly difficult succubus, one that decided she enjoyed making other people sleep with each other instead of sleeping with her. As expected Jaskier and Coën slept together. What wasn’t expected was that, instead of waking up alone and cold, Jaskier had woken up to the Witcher running his hand through his hair, smiling softly down at him in an almost nervous manner. Jaskier nearly got up and left when the Witcher had stuttered out a very poor yet endearing attempt at a confession. His battered heart nearly leapt out of his throat with the revelation and wouldn’t stop pumping blood into his face until it was sure he looked like a tomato.

It was an interesting morning, to say the least. Full of clumsy attempts to work around their newly stated feelings for each other and even clumsier attempts at trying to show said feelings. They had decided quite quickly that they didn’t need to change how they acted with one another and could just keep doing what they had been doing before. Though now it involved an intimacy that could be shared whenever they pleased.

“What are you thinking about?” Jaskier looked down at Coën, his heart swooning at the absolute adoration he found in those golden eyes as they stared up at him. A wide smile took over the bard’s face as he leaned down, placing a chaste kiss on his Witcher’s forehead, “Just the past few years. How thankful I am that you stopped that day and brought me with you. How much I love you.” Coën’s face softened with the words, a small smile of his own quirking the corners of his mouth, “I love you too.” The words made Jaskier’s heart swell with a joy that was so common these days but had once been so rarely seen in the bard.

Coën’s eyes flicked behind him before he sighed heavily, sitting up from the warm embrace and rubbing at his eyes, “Alright. We should start heading out. If we leave now, we should make it to Kaer Morhen before nightfall.” Jaskier was the one who whined this time, reluctantly getting out of bed and pulling his clothes on. Coën laughed at his bard’s behaviour, nuzzling him behind his ear and laying a light kiss on the fresh bruise that sat there. Jaskier shivered at the contact, giving a half-hearted glare when his Witcher did nothing more than laugh and walk away.

The two set off, Jaskier sitting in front of Coën this time so he could lean back on the Witcher and see the scenery better. Also, because the last time Jaskier was behind him the bard was nearly swept off by a leshen. Jaskier was heartbroken of course because he lost his horse amongst all the commotion and since he had no sense of self-preservation, he didn’t even care that a leshen almost killed him. But that was an almost admirable trait in Coën’s opinion. Not the complete lack of danger but the fact that he didn’t seem to let anything get to him, at least not until later when things had calmed down and he had made sure his Witcher wasn’t seriously injured.

Before they knew it, they were riding up to the gates of Kaer Morhen, a familiar face greeting them as the got closer, “Coën. I see that you’ve brought an outsider with you.” The Witcher nodded once, staring Vesemir down as the older Witcher stared the bard down. The moment dragged by, Vesemir being the one to relent first.

“Lambert and Eskel are in the dining hall. Take your bard to meet them and then settle in. It’s your turn to hunt for dinner.” Vesemir left with their horse, Coën letting a quiet sigh of relief slip before smiling down at his elf, “Shall we then?” Jaskier nodded, his eyes never staying in one place for more than a second before flicking to the next object. Coën chuckled fondly, taking his bard by the hand and leading him inside to the dining hall where a rather loud conversation was going on.

“What do you mean you’ve never heard of it?! A hundred years of being alive and you’ve never even heard of- What’s that smell?” Right as Lambert said that Coën and Jaskier rounded the corner. The hall was quiet for all of five seconds before Lambert was speaking again, getting up from his chair and walking over to them, “Well I’ll be damned. Haven’t seen your mug around here in a good few years. What changed your mind?” Coën looked down to Jaskier with a small smile, the bard offering a polite smile toward Lambert as he offered a hand.

“Jaskier. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Lambert stared at the bard for a second before bursting into a loud laugh that made Jaskier jump back in surprise, “That’s something you don’t hear every day. Eskel! Come get a load of this bard, he said he’s pleased to meet me!” Jaskier frowned at the man, not fully understanding why he was finding it so funny.

Before he could dwell on it much the other Witcher, Eskel, came over, rolling his eyes at the first Witcher and offering a small quirk of the mouth as a way of greeting, “Ignore Lambert. He’s just not used to people being kind.” Lambert scoffed, all traces of laughter gone from his face, “As if you can blame me. Anyway, did you say you were Jaskier?”

The bard nodded, “Why?” Lambert stared at him for a quiet moment before glancing at Coën, “What’re you doing with this guy. I thought you were Geralt’s bard.” Jaskier’s breath hitched, his heart throbbing and giving a painful tug at the mention of that name. Eskel must’ve noticed the change since he promptly cuffed Lambert around the back of the head, glaring harshly at the man before looking back to Coën, “Your room has a fire going already. You should take Jaskier up before he loses his fingers.”

Coën hummed in agreement, silently thanking Eskel for his slightly above-average social skills. He turned to Jaskier, noting the far-away look in the bard’s eyes with a frown, “Julian? Should we head up to the room.” The bard snapped out of his trance, looking up at Coën’s worried features before nodding with a tight smile, “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go do that.” Coën sighed, grabbing his bard’s hand once again before leading him off toward their room for the Winter, resolutely ignoring the unsettling feeling that had settled itself in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of your comments are really sweet and supportive and then some of you make me laugh for a solid ten minutes. But thank you all for your love. It's awesome to wake up to every day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Coën sort something out. Lambert is still picking fights with everyone. Geralt, Yennefer and Cirilla show up. The other Witcher's gang up on Geralt because he hurt their bard. Coën vehemently rejects the idea of Jaskier belonging to anyone but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Jaskier doesn't have his glamour up in Kaer Morhen because the other Witcher's know he's an elf but he pulls it on when Geralt gets there.

How could he still be hung up on him?! It’s been twenty years and that name still sent his heart into a frenzy. Jaskier sighed harshly as he fell onto the bed, his view of the ceiling quickly being replaced with Coën’s face, “Are you alright?” Jaskier hummed, offering a small smile to his Witcher as held his arms out, “I’d feel better if you hugged me right now.” Coën laughed, shaking his head fondly but lying down regardless.

Silent relief washed over the elf, the tight feeling in his chest quickly subsiding when surrounded by the familiarity of his Witcher. Coën inhaled his bard’s scent, noting the sour hints of hurt, “I’m sorry.” The Witcher made a noise of confusion, propping himself up slightly when Jaskier didn’t immediately answer.

The bard’s face was pinched with hurt and worry, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he seemed to look everywhere but Coën, “I know it’s been twenty years since I last saw him and I should be over him but it still hurts to hear his name. I still can’t forget what he said to me that day and it’s not fair to you…” Coën stared at his elf for a moment before leaning down and kissing him on the cheek, “It’s alright. Do you still love him?” Jaskier, sucked in a sharp breath, looking at Coën with an almost disbelieving look, “What? No! I will not lie. I am still fond of the whole white wolf concept since that is what brought me to my well-known reputation, but I do not love him.”

Coën nodded, nuzzling his face into the bard’s neck with a sigh, “Then you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not easy getting over the harsh words of someone that you had given your heart and soul to.” Jaskier sighed, smiling softly as he drew random patterns along his Witcher’s shoulder, “You’re too good for me darling…” Coën chuckled, squeezing Jaskier’s waist the slightest bit tighter, “The same could be said for you, Julian…”

***Time skip to a couple of weeks later***

“Bard! Play us something!” Jaskier scoffed, throwing his apple core at Lambert, “Fuck off Lambert. Play yourself something.” Eskel chortled at that, hiding his grin behind his mug of ale as Lambert attempted to hide his amusement with his usual complaints, “You want to fight ya elven bastard?” Jaskier feigned boredom, leaning on Coën with a dramatic sigh, “I would but I don’t think it’d be much of a challenge. You’ve become too predictable.”

Lambert let out an offended shout, standing from his chair abruptly and ignoring the laughter of Eskel and Coën, “I’ll show you predictable you little shit.”

“Enough! Must you two provoke each other every morning?” Lambert sat back down, grumbling to himself as Vesemir took a seat opposite him, the older Witcher rolling his eyes when the bard did nothing more than shrug and flash that familiar shit-eating grin of his.

They had all settled into a nice routine, everyone knows when it is their turn to do something and they do it before someone gets the chance to remind them. Everyone seemed to have taken quite nicely to having Jaskier there with them as well, his constant chatter and song playing bringing a warmth to the keep that had never been present before.

As much as Coën enjoyed seeing his bard so happy and safe he also had a slight problem with the side effects of having his bard here. Lambert and Eskel had started getting friendlier with him, snuggling up to him when they were all settled in front of the fire, touching him whenever they well pleased and giving him random little gifts. It wouldn’t be as bad if Jaskier wasn’t so painfully oblivious about, but he always just accepts all of it with a smile and slight tilt of the head. It’s driving Coën mad but when he tried to bring it up to the bard Jaskier just asked him what he was talking about.

They all ate breakfast in a relative peacefulness, except Lambert had taken to slinging his arm around Jaskier and Coën was on the verge of throwing a chair at the man’s face. They were saved from the inevitable brawl when there was a heavy knock at the door, all of them stopping and looking in the general direction. Vesemir got up first, followed closely by the three Witcher’s and bard, all of them wielding a weapon of some kind.

Vesemir opened the door, raising his sword before dropping it again, “Geralt?” Jaskier froze, his breathing catching in his throat suddenly and causing him to stumble back slightly. Eskel was the one to catch him around the waist, shooting him a worried look before handing him off to Coën. There were murmured words before the door opened wider, revealing a painfully familiar head of white hair and golden eyes that seemed to pierce right into his soul.

Not only did it reveal him, but it also uncovered a purple-eyed witch and a little girl with a tattered blue coat and white hair peeking out from beneath the hood. Everyone was silent for a moment, nobody sure of what to do now. Lambert had sheathed his swords, oddly quiet for once while coming over to Jaskier, “Breakfast?” The bard nodded dumbly, taking Coën’s hand and following behind Lambert while resolutely ignoring the burning stare at the back of his neck.

Everyone made their way into the dining hall once again, Vesemir stopping Geralt, Yennefer and the girl before they could sit down and talking to them in hushed whispers. Jaskier sighed, looking down at the girl and offering her a kind smile. She stared back at him blankly for a second before recognition flashed across her face, her hands shooting up and pulling her hood down off her head, “Jaskier?!” The bard’s eyes widened as he looked down at the girl, the _princess,_ that was suddenly running toward him.

She ignored the call of both Yennefer and Geralt, barrelling into Jaskier’s open arms and sobbing brokenly into his chest, “I thought you died!” Jaskier hugged her close, soothing her mindless rambling and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, “Well as you can see, I am very much in one-piece Fiona. Though you may have to check. Coën here often tells me that I don’t look after myself well.” 

The Witcher snorted, kneeling next to his bard and the girl, “Because you don’t know when to stay back and use your bow.” Cirilla laughed wetly, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she looked between Jaskier and Coën, “Is this the Witcher in your new songs?” Jaskier smiled brightly, nodding and leaning against the man slightly as he answered with all the fondness he could muster, “This is my Witcher Coën. Coën this is Fiona-”

“Cirilla.” Jaskier looked at the princess, noting the way she looked at the two of them with complete trust in her eyes. He smiled, bowing his head slightly, “Apologies. This is Cirilla. I played for her on the request of her mother over the years.” Ciri lit up with a childish joy, her smile wide as she stared Jaskier down with wide blue eyes, “Could you play me a song, please? One of your new ones?” The bard hummed in thought, his eyes flicking toward Geralt who was leaving the hall with the witch in tow.

He sighed in mock defeat, ignoring the twinge in his chest, “Oh alright. If you insist. But you must eat if I am to play you a song my fair maiden.” Jaskier swept her up before placing her down in a chair, relishing in the carefree laugh she had let loose. Jaskier was unsure about having both Geralt and Yennefer here but if it meant he could be with Cirilla and bring that childish innocence back for her then he could survive a few months of ignoring the other two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun to write. I loved it. Also, I may or may not consider adding in a bit of some of the other Jaskier x other Witcher ships if you guys aren't too against it. There'll be no Geralt x Jaskier because that ship doesn't exist in this fic anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier reveals his elven heritage to Cirilla. Coën thinks of sharing Jaskier with Lambert and Eskel. Coën has a chat with Geralt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the number of years that Coën and Jaskier have been travelling together for from 20 to 11 because someone pointed out that 20 wouldn't work properly. So thank you kindly @ChickenLittle

Jaskier had been playing songs for a while now. Ciri had long since finished eating, along with the other four Witcher’s but they all decided that they would hang about the dining hall a little longer. Yennefer and Geralt still hadn’t returned from wherever it was they ran off to, not that Jaskier cared anyway, he was just happy that he was able to make the princess smile.

The happiness was short-lived though when the witch and her Witcher walked back into the hall, and from the way, Lambert wrinkled his nose and Coën gripped his hand a little tighter Jaskier could only guess at what they had been doing. He sighed softly, ignoring the two in favour of smiling at Ciri once again, “Why do you still look the same Jaskier?” The bard noticed the way Lambert and Eskel stopped talking, looking toward Jaskier in an almost nervous manner.

Vesemir was looking at him in much the same way but a little more subtly since he was talking the Geralt and Yennefer again, who both seemed unaware of the valid question Cirilla had posed. Jaskier looked around suspiciously before kneeling in front of her, flicking his eyes toward Coën who promptly stood to block Geralt’s view should he turn toward them. Jaskier smiled in thanks, turning toward Ciri and dropping his glamour. She gasped quietly, the bard mocking a gasp as she reached out and ran light fingers along the point of his right ear, “Elf?”

He nodded, smiling sweetly when she continued to stare in awe. Jaskier held a finger up to his lips, winking when she nodded determinedly and pursed her lips slightly. The bard pulled the glamour back on, staggering a bit when the magic sapped a little too much from him. Coën was there immediately, catching him around the waist and giving him a worried look, “I’m fine love. You know I’ve been through worse.” Coën hummed noncommittally, pulling his bard closer and nuzzling his face into his neck, inhaling the calming scent of his elf.

There was a deep growl off to his right, causing him to raise his head. It was unusual for Lambert and Eskel to growl so the sudden sound confused the Witcher more than he’d care to admit. But he was caught off guard when met with the fiery glare of one Geralt of Rivia, the man looking as if he wanted rip Coën’s arms off and take his bard away. Something hot and possessive curled in Coën’s stomach, causing him to curl tighter around his bard in an attempt to hide him from Geralt’s stare.

Jaskier stopped his chattering, looking at Coën with a furrowed brow before noticing that his stare was directed somewhere else. Jaskier followed his gaze, freezing up when he made eye contact with Geralt. He watched as the man’s posture slightly relaxed, his eyes softening and the corner of his mouth twitching the slightest bit. The bard whipped his head around, smiling stiffly down at Cirilla before promptly leaving the hall.

Coën frowned after his elven bard, sighing and nodding at Eskel who was giving him an almost pleading look. It was another thing that they had all just grown used to. Whenever Jaskier grew distant or disappeared for more than a few hours at a time one of them would go to check on him, offer him the comfort of a warm embrace and a listening ear. Most times it was Coën who did it but sometimes he would send Eskel or Lambert because he knew that they cared for his bard just as much as he did. He supposed it was about time they all sat down and had a proper talk about that but for now, Coën had a stubborn ass to deal with.

Once Vesemir had finished talking to the two Coën made his way over, ignoring the silent warning the older Witcher gave him before stopping in front of Geralt and the witch. The two Witcher’s stared at one another for a moment before Coën inclined his head toward the hallway that leads into the courtyard. He didn’t wait for the response, knowing that Geralt would follow him for one reason or another.

The two stopped under a tree, neither of them speaking before Geralt suddenly broke it, “Why is Jaskier here?” Coën looked at the other Witcher, noting the tenseness to his shoulders and the way he looked ready to bite anything that drew too close, “Because I asked him to come.” Geralt growled at that, glaring harshly at Coën as he spoke, “You know what I meant.” Coën rolled his eyes with a huff, a distant part of his mind laughing at how Jaskier that particular act was.

“Because we travel together. Have been for the last eleven or so years. He’s my friend…” Geralt grit his teeth tightly, the thought of Jaskier being such close… friends with another Witcher leaving a sour tang in the back of his throat. Coën sighed roughly, running a hand over his head before standing in front of Geralt. He glared lightly at his old friend, crossing his arms and silently cursing out this man for hurting his bard but silently pitying him at the same time.

“Geralt… It wasn’t easy when you left Julian in that inn room alone.” The Witcher’s anger died and quick death. Disappearing and promptly being replaced with guilt, “He was heartbroken Geralt. He didn’t sing, didn’t talk, barely smiled. Do you know how long it took me to get him to return to how he was before? Before you gave an empty promise of more?” Geralt shrunk in on himself slightly, the guilt and memories that seemed so faded before now coming back with a violent vengeance.

“For Melitele’s sake Geralt! He woke up screaming for months because he always thought you were leaving him again. He always thought _I_ was leaving him.” Geralt frowned, the guilt and pain eating away at his stomach as Coën stared at him in an almost pleading way, “I don’t give a shit what you have to do. Grovel, beg, run yourself through with your own silver. I don’t care. Just fix what you’ve done. Julian deserves more than your mixed signals and brooding stares while you make off with that witch.” With that Coën left, ignoring the quiet whine from behind him and focusing instead on finding his bard again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always so scared that I'm getting these characters wrong because I've only seen the show but all of you's are so supportive and nice. Thank you~!!!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier avoids the topic of Geralt. Coën, Eskel and Lambert sort their relationship with Jaskier. The three Witcher's make a silent promise to castrate Geralt if he tries ruining their happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a hell of a lot shorter than other ones sorry. Today was rough and I'm really tired.

Jaskier looked up when a light knock came from the door, smiling when he saw Eskel standing in the doorway in an almost nervous manner, “You can come in Eskel.” Said Witcher nodded, closing the door behind him before coming toward the bed and sitting down, “Are you alright?” Jaskier sighed harshly, falling back into his pillows, “No… I hate that he’s here. Eleven years of not seeing a single trace of him and then he shows up with his witch and Cirilla…”

Jaskier sighed again, an old ache starting to form in his chest as the corners of his eyes started to sting, “Could we not talk about this? Please? I just… I would like to avoid the subject of Geralt for as long as I can.” Eskel nodded silently, lying down next to the bard and taking his hand in his own. The two lay like that, both lost in their own thoughts but appreciating the warmth that the other offered.

“Jaskier… I- Would you-… Hmm…” The elven bard chuckled amusedly, turning his head to look at the Witcher, “Would I what?” Eskel looked at him for a long moment, biting his lip before grunting softly. The Witcher leaned forward suddenly, quickly pecking Jaskier on the mouth before pulling away just as quick, a fiery red running across his cheeks.

The bard stared at him, his cheeks just as red and his mind in slight disarray. Jaskier was never one to cheat. When he loved, he loved with 100% of his being. But he can’t say that he was ever opposed to the idea of having multiple partners, only if they were all okay with the idea though.

Jaskier sighed softly, cupping Eskel’s cheek lightly with a sad smile, “Though I do return your feelings I am with Coën and we would have to discuss this matter with him.” Before the Witcher could respond Lambert came tumbling in, a shit-eating grin spread across his face as he strode across the room, Coën close behind him, “Funny you say that. We have come to discuss that exact matter with you.”

Jaskier’s brows furrowed as he sat up against the headboard of the bed, looking at the three Witcher’s that were all sat on the end of the bed. Which was a surprisingly big bed considering the cold stone room that Jaskier resided in.

“What do you mean?” Lambert rolled his eyes, tugging Jaskier’s foot the slightest bit, “The relationship you hold with us. Obviously, we are all in love with you and you somewhat return our feelings. So, we’ve come to talk it out, and by that, I mean we’re going to beat Coën in submission until he lets us be with you as well.”

The bard gave an abrupt laugh, noting the way Coën smiled fondly while Eskel rolled his eyes with a small smirk. Lambert was also smirking, but the look was quickly dropped, “That is an option but not our main one. We would like to share you.” Eskel clicked his tongue, cuffing Lambert around the back of the head while Coën spoke, “We all want to be in a relationship with you. If that is alright with you?”

Jaskier looked between the three, noting the mix of hope and fear in their features. Well, he couldn’t have that, now could he. A wide smile spread across the bard’s face, a laugh erupting from his chest as he launched himself at the three, “Yes it’s bloody well alright! I was going to come to you all sooner, but other things occurred, and I didn’t get the chance.”

The two didn’t show it much but Jaskier, being the elven bard he is, could tell how happy and relieved Eskel and Lambert were. The bard pulled back from the group hug, smiling brightly as he kissed each of them on the cheek, “I am going to take such good care of all of you and I can’t wait until we go travelling once again.” The old Witcher’s felt their hearts melt with the proclamation, all of them coming to the silent agreement that they wouldn’t let Geralt ruin this for them. The man would either deal with it or he can suffer the pointed end of a blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter even if it was short!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri asks about Jaskier's lovers. Jaskier talks about Geralt sooner than he'd like. Cirilla is sharper than anyone realises. Geralt discovers a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we this far already? Dang... I'm not exactly sure how long this is gonna be because I honestly didn't think of it past the point of the prompt I had made. Sorry again, it's a little longer than the last one but it's still kinda short.

“Who are you lovers with Jaskier?” Said bard stopped mid-bite, his mouth hanging open as he held a spoon full of broth in mid-air, “You should close your mouth before you catch something.” Jaskier’s mouth snapped shut, a dark hue of red colouring his cheeks as he stuck his tongue out at Lambert. The Witcher just laughed before going back to his bowl, the elf turning back toward Cirilla, “Why do you ask?” The princess tilted her head slightly, frowning thoughtfully before speaking, “Well you and Coën are quite obviously in love with each other.” Everyone ignored the growl that garnered, “But you also share your affections with Eskel and Lambert.”

Jaskier huffed a laugh, shrugging his shoulders, “I forget how perceptive you really are lion cub. To answer in short, they are all my lovers.” Lambert would forever deny laughing like a child in glee and Eskel would forever reject the idea of him blushing like a fair maiden. Jaskier chuckled at the two, smiling at Ciri as she seemed to process the information, “Ok then… Did you-” Cirilla stopped short, a troubled look crossing her features before she shook her head, “Never mind.”

She stood from the table, leaving her meal half-finished, and walked out of the dining hall. The elven bard frowned after her, glancing at her bowl before standing to follow after her, making sure to bring the bowl as well. Jaskier sent a small smile toward his Witcher’s before he left, completely missing the way Geralt had glared at the three before getting up to follow after Jaskier.

The bard ended up following the princess all the way to the library, a place that Cirilla seemed to have taken a liking to as of late. He found her sitting near the hearth, staring into the flames absently with a blanket around her shoulders. Jaskier came and sat beside her, placing the bowl on the floor slightly in front of them, before turning toward her slightly.

“Are you alright?” She didn’t answer at first, continuing to stare in the flames. After a few moments, she spoke up, albeit quieter than what she normally would, “Why weren’t you with Geralt? I was told you were quite fond of him…” Jaskier silently groaned. He didn’t want to talk about Geralt, but he also knew that he couldn’t avoid the man for the entire winter. The bard stared at the flames, watching as they lapped at the sides of the hearth and slowly splintered the wood.

“I was… am quite fond of him. Have been for 30 years now… But things change Cirilla. People won’t always feel the same way as you or hold the feelings they once had.” The princess was looking at him now, her gaze far too knowing and calculating for a child of her age, “Did you deserve what he did to you?” Jaskier snorted, looking down at her with a tight smile, “I don’t know. I probably didn’t but maybe I did. I was always just a burden for him I’m sure, he made sure I knew about it every day. But I also like to think that I helped him more than I inconvenienced him…”

Ciri hummed softly before leaning her head on Jaskier’s shoulder, closing her eyes and just listening to the sounds of the room, “For what it’s worth I still feel the same way about you.” Jaskier smiled, a little softer around the edges, “Oh yeah? And how do you feel?” The princess smiled up at him, “I feel that you are the best bard to ever walk this continent and that you should play me a song.” Abrupt laughter bubbled out from Jaskier’s chest, rolling his eyes fondly as he ran a hand through Cirilla’s hair.

“Well, I haven’t got my lute on me-” Cirilla sat up abruptly, gasping dramatically with a hand to her chest, “A bard without his lute? Blasphemous.” Jaskier laughed again, pulling Ciri in and hugging her close, “Oh the horror of a lute-less bard. I guess I will just have to sing you a song.” The princess, lay down, placing her head in Jaskier’s lap and staring expectantly up at him.

The bard thought for a moment, his hands absently playing with Cirilla’s hair before a soft tune began to flow from his mouth completely unbidden. Jaskier started to drift in his thoughts, singing softly and playing with the princess’ hair. He was completely unaware of his surroundings and failed to notice the dark shadow standing in the doorway. Geralt hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the conversation but when he got here, they were talking about him and he wanted to hear what the bard thought of him after Geralt had left him after apologising and then sleeping with him.

The man honestly hadn’t expected to find that the bard still cared for him in some way. He was also kicking himself for making Jaskier think like that. All the bard had ever done was stand by him, fix him up after a particularly rough fight. All Jaskier had done was _love_ him but he still took it for granted. Told himself that it would be ok because it wasn’t the first time he had left the bard before he woke. Jaskier always made it back to him in the end, ranting and chattering about what he had come across and of how rude it was for Geralt to leave him alone ad out in the open.

But then Jaskier hadn’t come back. The bard hadn’t made his way back and after the first year, Geralt had assumed the worse. He wanted to go find the man but it was hard when most towns were crawling with Nilfgaardian soldiers that were incidentally looking for the child that was travelling with him. Geralt sighed harshly, running a hand over his face before leaving the doorway of the library, deciding that he would talk to Jaskier at a later time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are all doing ok. Look after yourselves with everything that's going on and stay healthy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier talks with his Witcher’s. Vesemir gives the elf a gift. Everybody (except Geralt and Yennefer) gets elf kisses. Geralt makes shit worse again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hear me out here. Lambert is like a big dog whenever he's with Jaskier. He gets excited when he sees the bard, bites the hands of those who hurt him or his elf, loves attention but will still be a playful/snarky little shit toward everyone. It probs doesn't even fit his original character but I'm being hella OOC with everyone soooooo...
> 
> Also, did I make Geralt say something super dick-ish just so I could have a little more plot? Yes. Yes, I did. Won't lie, it physically made me hurt to make him so bloody dick-ish but I couldn't help it.

It was late afternoon by the time Cirilla and Jaskier left the library, both of them looking half asleep with their hair sticking up in random directions. Eskel had chuckled fondly at his bard, walking over and dropping a kiss on his forehead before smiling at the princess. Cirilla gave a small smile back, looking around the courtyard before turning back to the Witcher, “Where is everybody else?”

Eskel scratched the back of his neck, wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s waist absently, “Geralt and the witch went off to their room. Lambert went out to hunt for dinner with Coën and Vesemir is in his study. I was told to tell you that you’re training will begin tomorrow so make sure you eat a lot and get a good night’s rest.”

Cirilla hummed in agreement, following beside the Witcher as he guided the elf back toward the dining hall, “Her name is Yennefer.” Eskel looked down at the princess, looking as if he was about to say something but stopping himself with a short nod. Cirilla tilted her head slightly, a silent question written across her face before she shrugged it off.

The three sat in the dining hall, Jaskier leaning on Eskel as he talked with Ciri about anything and everything. She seemed a little calmer now, less jumpy than when she had first arrived. But that just seemed to be the effect that Jaskier had on people, he always had such a calming air around him. The three were interrupted by loud laughter and arguing, all of them rolling their eyes when there was an audible thunk and colourful cursing immediately after.

Shortly after Lambert and Coën entered, the former rubbing at his head with a noticeable pout before it was cleared almost immediately, “Jaskier!” The Witcher dropped the deer carcass he was holding onto a table before bounding over, picking the bard up from Eskel’s lap and holding him close, “I caught dinner. Eskel go cook it.” Jaskier laughed lightly, turning and kissing Eskel on the cheek to lessen the Witcher’s grumbling, smiling when that prompted a light hue of red and a smile to spread on the Witcher’s face.

Lambert pouted again until he also got a kiss on the cheek, Coën coming over and leaning down to kiss Jaskier on the lips. Though the four of them had decided on sharing a relationship with Jaskier Eskel and Lambert were still nervous about the whole endeavour. Past experiences with ‘lovers’ and friends leaving them with stains on the whole concept. But the bard was willing to try and coax them out of their mindsets, starting small with the two so he didn’t scare them away or something similar.

Cirilla was staring at Jaskier, looking as if she wanted to say something but was holding her tongue, “Would you like a kiss too?” The tips of her ears coloured red and she ducked her head a little, but she still nodded slightly, perking up when Jaskier beckoned her closer. He leaned down, pecking her on the forehead lightly while tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “Proud little lion cub…” Cirilla beamed up at him before turning to talk to Eskel who was taking the deer into the kitchens.

Coën stayed in the dining hall, taking a seat beside Jaskier and Lambert before speaking, “You’re going to have to talk to Geralt. I know what he did was unfair, and you would rather not but you can’t spend the entire winter avoiding him. There are only so many places you can hide and I’m afraid to say, you aren’t a very good hider Julian.” Said elf snorted, waving his hand dismissively.

“I am a fantastic hider Coën. It took Lambert here an entire ten minutes to find me yesterday when he wanted to train.” Said Witcher chuckled, squeezing Jaskier around the waist slightly as he leaned down, “Maybe because I could smell how much you were enjoying the game…” A fiery heat rushed over Jaskier’s face, the vague feeling of yesterday’s game coming back as a dull throb.

The elf squeaked when Lambert nipped at the point of his right ear, whipping around and covering both as he glared half-heartedly at the laughing Witcher. Jaskier’s Witcher’s had figured out quite quickly that his ears were a weak spot for him and used it against him at every chance they got. The bard would be lying if he said he hated it.

Vesemir clearing his throat from the other end of the hall stopped whatever argument the bard and Witcher were about to start, both of them looking properly chastised despite the older man saying nothing at all. Vesemir came over to their table, taking a seat with a huff before looking at Jaskier, “It took a while, but it’s done.”

The bard tilted his head in a clear question, furrowing his brows when a slight tint of pink-hued Vesemir’s cheeks, “You’re an elf with no weapon and you travel with Witcher’s. It would be stupid for you to continue this way if you are to switch travelling between the three of them without at least a bow to protect you.” Jaskier’s eyes widened, his mind quickly catching on to what it was Vesemir was trying to say. Coën and Lambert still seemed kind of lost, Eskel and Cirilla wearing matching expressions of confusion as they walked back in.

The older Witcher jerked his head, prompting Jaskier to stand and come toward him, holding his hands out when told. Vesemir placed a beautifully carved bow into his waiting hands, magic coming off it in waves, “It’s enchanted with a few spells… For safety.” Did Jaskier ever mention that he was an affectionate person?

The bard launched himself forward, making sure his bow didn’t crash into anything or anyone, wrapping his arms around the older bard and kissing his cheek, “Thank you!” The older Witcher was startled, tensing at the unfamiliar contact and staring at everyone over the bard’s shoulder with wide eyes. Eskel and Lambert were in much the same state but Coën just smiled affectionately, Cirilla smiling at Vesemir and gesturing for him to wrap his arms around the bard.

The old bear did so, albeit slowly and hesitantly, tightening his grip a bit when Jaskier went to pull away, “…You’re welcome.” He finally let go, offering a small smile when Jaskier looked at him. Though nice things can never last long when you’re with a Witcher, no matter who that Witcher may be.

“Oh, so you’re with everyone now?” Jaskier frowned as he turned to Geralt, noting the angered look colouring his features, “What? No, I was just-” The Witcher scoffed, glaring at Jaskier and sending ice down the bard’s spine with the familiarity of it, “Oh so you just go around kissing everyone now, do you? You going to fuck them too?” The bard felt a stab of pain go through his chest, his mind trying to throw him into turmoil, but he was not having it this time.

“Fuck you Geralt! I tried to stay out of your way so this wouldn’t happen, but you couldn’t but open your mouth when you don’t even know anything. You’re a right bastard and I wish I never fell for you that day.” Jaskier stormed off with that, taking his bow in hand and ignoring the calls of his name. He needed to let off some steam before he accidentally hurt someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never actually intended to write one because I didn't think it would get this far but do you guys want like a smut scene or something? And if so between who? All four? One at a time? Two at a time? A mix between all of those??


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have mentioned this earlier but just so you know Jaskier always has his glamour up unless he's in his room alone/with one of his Witchers/with Vesemir. I'm also not entirely aware of how glamour's work so if something doesn't work then please let me. Thanks guys!

Jaskier took a deep breath, finally lowering his bow before making his way over to the tree. He had been outside for a while now, just shooting off arrows until his mind went blank. He was hurt when Geralt said that but the more he thought about it the angrier he got. The Witcher could’ve just spoke politely about it or left the room but he had to be an arse and say that.

The elven bard yanked another arrow from the tree, dropping it to the ground before reaching for the next one. He was interrupted when a small body collided with his back, sending him forward slightly before he caught his balance again, “What the-?” Jaskier turned his head back slightly, noting the way Cirilla was shaking slightly. She looked up suddenly, tears running down her face and her breaths laboured, “Coën and Geralt- a-and everyone- you have to come back!”

Jaskier was beyond confused but all his mind was bothering to register was the fact that the princess looked scared and he was not having that. The bard bent down, kissing her forehead softly while wiping her tears, “I want you to go to the library alright? I’ll come to get you when things have calmed down.” Cirilla began to protest but Jaskier gently hushed her before sending her off. She hesitated for another moment but decided to listen, especially with the expression the bard was wearing.

Once Ciri was safely on her way Jaskier made his way toward the dining hall, letting his glamour drop and taking a firm hold on his bow. He didn’t plan on shooting anyone, but he wasn’t opposed to the whole idea either.

When he finally made it to the dining hall it was a mess. Somehow food was everywhere, Eskel and Lambert were covered in… something or other while holding down a practically feral Coën. Vesemir and Yennefer were in a similar state while holding down a feral Geralt and there was broken furniture. Jaskier sighed heavily, “You leave some Witcher’s alone for three seconds and they start a fight.” The bard came toward his Witcher’s kneeling in front of Coën so the man could see him clearly before tilting his head with a small smile.

“Angry, are we?” Coën calmed slightly, the anger dying a little and being replaced with concern instead. Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat but he ignored it, for now, noting that his dumb Witcher had taken one of his witchery potions and groaning quietly.

“You’re going to have a hard time wearing that off tonight darling. How about you go do some training to help it along?” Coën snarled, obviously displeased with the idea but Eskel interjected before either one of them could say much more, “Coën you’re just being stubborn. Jaskier will be fine with Lambert and Vesemir here.” Coën looked at him, the worry and silent question loud and clear in those pitch-black eyes.

The bard smiled, nodding slightly before leaning over and kissing him on the forehead, “I’ll be fine darling. I’ll come back in a couple of hours and we can sit in our room yeah?” Coën still looked reluctant but he got up anyway, glaring murderously down at Geralt as he passed by with Eskel holding him firmly by the arm.

Jaskier slouched slightly, the overflow of magic after having his glamour up for so long making him slightly dizzy, “Are you alright?” The elf hummed, nodding while standing and turning toward Geralt. The man looked a little less on edge with Coën gone but Vesemir continued to keep a hold on him as if he knew that Geralt would go running the second he so much as blinked.

The bard walked over, kneeling in front of the Witcher and studying him with a blank look. He noticed that Geralt had also taken one of the potions, his skin pale and black veins stemming out from his eyes. The Witcher stared back at him, his stare narrow for a moment before widening, “You’re-”

Jaskier cracked a smile, some weird satisfaction at catching Geralt off guard for once-blooming inside his chest. He quickly pushed the thought away though, staring the man down as he spoke, “We need to talk… Alone.” Vesemir and Lambert shot him concerned looks but the bard ignored them, never breaking his gaze with the Witcher in front of him.

“Fine…” Another silent moment went by, nobody moving before they all moved at once. Yennefer and Vesemir stood, brushing off their clothes before leaving. Lambert leant down and kissed the side of Jaskier’s head and if it was purely to spite Geralt nobody mentioned it. Jaskier and Geralt shifted, both finding a more comfortable sitting position on the floor.

The bard was too tired to move, the Witcher in a similar state despite the potion still running through his veins. They waited until everyone was gone, then waited a little more before Jaskier finally broke the silence hanging over them.

“You’re a bastard.” Geralt winced, nodding regardless of the sharp stab of pain, “I know.” The bard glared at the man, all the anger and hurt reaching a peak and rushing out in short insults and jabs.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.”

“I was there for you through everything and you threw me away as if I was nothing to you.”

“I know.”

“I loved you for years and you never even bothered to acknowledge that fact when you knew! You could smell it on me, and you never even did anything! Instead, you ran off with that witch every chance you got and left me wondering when you’d either give me the time of day or tell me to fuck off!”

Geralt was silent for a few moments more before speaking, “I know… I’m sorry…” Jaskier scoffed, falling back onto his hands and looking at the ceiling, “Well it’s a tad too late for that Geralt.” The Witcher grunted, his mind trying to piece together strings of words that didn’t make any sort of sense to him.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t-” The Witcher grunted in frustration, wishing for all the world that the bard would be his usual self and tease him and talk enough for the both of them. But Jaskier wasn’t doing that now. He wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes held a faraway look, his face deadly calm but somehow dark with a brewing storm.

“You know I hoped… After you left me in that inn there was still a part of me that hoped it was just a quick errand. That you just had to go slay a monster and then you’d be back, covered in monster’s guts once again and I’d just wash the worries and pains away… But you didn’t come back. Not then, not the day after, and not the eleven years after. I was hurt and so mad with you, but I was- still so stupidly in love with you.”

I flicker of hope went off in Geralt’s chest, a quick stream of thoughts consisting of, _‘Maybe he hadn’t completely fucked this up.’_ Running through his head. The hope quickly died when Jaskier looked back at him, tears running down his face and absolute heartbreak adorning his face, “But you’ll never love me back because you have her… And I can’t put myself through that again. I refuse to be hurt because you can’t make up your mind and keep dancing around it Geralt. I will not let you do that to me again.”

The bard stood, not bothering to wipe his tears away as he went to walk away. He stopped when a solid grip took hold of his arm, an almost pleading whimper to the voice that spoke, “Jaskier, please. I’m so sorry for what I did to you and I don’t ever want to put you through that again. But please let me prove myself to you. Just let me prove myself worthy enough to be your friend once more.”

The bard didn’t look at the Witcher, knowing that everything he promised himself would be for naught if he looked at the Witcher right now, “If you hurt me, I will not hesitate to return the favour.” With that Jaskier left, going in search of Cirilla to tell her everything was fine now. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to stay here for the rest of the winter, tempted to leave amid a snowstorm if he had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating, my mum got sick so I was helping around the house and stuff. Anyway, I don't really know all that much about Witcher lore and what not so I kind of just did a quick research of basic things.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and his Witchers hug it out. Geralt is slowly but surely fixing things. Geralt realises that he's missed his chance. Jaskier drags everyone into a dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter! Because I wasn't sure how I could do this without feeling like I was dragging it out for no reason.

After Jaskier had coaxed Ciri out of hiding he walked her back to her room, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead before smiling sweetly and making his way to his room. Bone-deep exhaustion had settled itself in his bones, making his movements sluggish and his mind slow. So, he wasn’t exactly prepared for a mass of muscle to sweep him up and dump him into the arms of another mass of muscle.

The bard looked up in alarm before relaxing once again, Coën’s gentle smile easing his mind, “Are you alright?” The elf hummed, burying his face into the Witcher’s neck and relishing in the scent, “Fine. Are you? Your little potion has worn off right?” Coën chuckled, nodding briefly before laying Jaskier out on the bed. Coën lay on one side, Lambert on the other and Eskel on Jaskier’s chest and legs, all three of them taking care not to crush or suffocate their bard too much.

They lay in silence, all of them basking in the feeling of having each other and enjoying the rare peace. Jaskier’s thoughts had calmed with the atmosphere, no longer threatening to drown him if he got too lost. The bard started humming a quiet tune, an old thing that he hadn’t sung since the months following his abandonment. His Witcher’s recognised the song but none of them decided to comment on it, each of them settling in and letting themselves fall asleep to Jaskier’s singing.

***Time Skip***

It had been a few weeks since Geralt and Coën had nearly murdered each other. Things were still kind of awkward between the two, but they got through it with grunts and silent agreements. Jaskier and Geralt were on better terms now. The bard still wouldn’t allow himself to be left in a room alone with the Witcher and Geralt was still struggling to voice what he wanted to say, but they were better. They joked a little more, talked a bit more (At least on Geralt’s end they talked a bit more).

It had taken an entire afternoon to explain to Geralt that he had always been an elf and was never even human. And another whole afternoon to explain to Geralt that the Witcher who had tried cutting his ear off was already long gone and six feet under. Though it probably would have been better to double-check that Geralt was the only one present since he hadn’t exactly gotten around to telling Lambert and Eskel about that. But it was all said and done already.

Things were going quite smoothly with Ciri and her training as well, the only troubles being when she had nightmares and woke up screaming. Jaskier was usually the one to soothe her when that happened. Geralt helped her when she hunted, Vesemir helped when she needed to study her monsters and learn basic potions, Yennefer was there for magic and Jaskier was there to help her be a child for a while longer. It was the one thing that he was adamant about, and it proved to be worth it when he got to see Ciri laughing and having fun with Coën, Eskel and Lambert.

It was an unconventional little thing they had going on. Something without any structure and with so many holes it was a wonder how they managed to stay afloat. But they made it work. They enjoyed it and worked with it and it was their family. A family that was made up of mutants, a witch, a child and an elven bard.

“We should head to the coast…” Jaskier stopped playing his lute, looking toward Geralt with a bewildered look, “I’m sorry to tell you Geralt but it is still the middle of Winter.” Geralt scoffed, rolling his eyes before looking at Jaskier with all the exasperation in the world, “I mean afterwards. When Winter is finished, and we are all preparing to head out again. We could go to the coast…” A twinge went off in Jaskier’s chest, but instead of sparks of pain shooting off it was a nostalgic feeling, old promises and conversations making a blurry appearance in his mind.

The bard smiled, looking down at his lute as he played a light tune, “That would be nice… I’m sure Coën, Eskel and Lambert would enjoy the trip. Not to mention Cirilla, with everything she’s been through.” Geralt sighed softly, an almost sad smile crossing his features as Jaskier looked at him, “I guess I missed my chance?” The elf hummed, a stray tear suddenly tracking down his face, “Much too late for you old friend…” Geralt hummed, looking across the courtyard to where Ciri and Yennefer were training, “I’m glad you allowed me that much at least.” Jaskier nodded once, ignoring the muttered spells coming from his left and playing songs, old and new while swaying side to side slightly.

Coën snuck up behind him, hugging him around the waist and dropping a kiss on his cheek before Lambert took him by the hand and spun him into a dance. Jaskier laughed delightedly, easily falling into step with the slightly taller man, and smiling at Eskel as he was handed off to him. They danced like that around the courtyard, laughing when Cirilla stopped training to pull Geralt into a dance with her, the man awkward in his movements but making sure not to step on the princess.

Yennefer swayed slightly where she stood but refused to join them, eventually settling for sitting and clapping along with the jaunty tune Jaskier had started singing. The bard dragged Vesemir into it when the man came around the corner, laughing and prancing off once the elder had started to shuffle along. It was a warm afternoon, filled with laughter and joy, everyone’s minds at peace and their battered old hearts beating steadily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! It's finished! That was surprisingly quick and yet not. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! It means the world to me that so many people enjoyed this and reading your comments made me so damn happy. 
> 
> I'm really sorry if the ending was too abrupt or it wasn't enough for you. I was trying to write something else to make it a little better but it just wasn't working for some reason. But! I'm gonna be writing some other fics now so I hope you guys will consider checking those out as well! (They'll probs be one-shots but I dunno.)

**Author's Note:**

> If you've come from Tumblr then you can ignore this. If not go check out my Tumblr the-Witcher-has-taken-me-over


End file.
